Simon's Brides (10 page)

“I know that,” she muttered.

“Now, what about Bolton?” Simon heaved a heavy sigh. It was probable that a storm at sea would prove easier to manage than his aunt.

Aunt Agatha huffed, “Bolton’s no butler.”

“He is until I find out what happened to his pension. Harold did a great deal more damage to the people of this manor than to the manor itself. Now, you don’t need to concern yourself about Bolton. I’ll see to him.”

“Oh, Simon,” she whispered in a voice loud enough to carry through the whole house, “he just won’t do as a butler. He can barely go up and down stairs. If someone knocked at the front door, by the time Bolton arrived, the guest would have left.”

Simon refused to acknowledge that she had the right of it. As he watched, her chest heaved like a wave in a storm. Well, he couldn’t help it if she was angered. She hadn’t seen the old fellow’s face when Simon had said a valet wasn’t needed. Until he could get the accounts squared away, things would remain as they were.

“He stays,” Simon replied, his voice husky with displeasure.

Aunt Agatha made another disparaging sound, but Simon ignored her.

“Has Beth calmed down? I must question her. And, have Amy inquire how much time before dinner can be served. I’m starving.”

Simon followed his aunt out of the small office. Maybe he’d get lucky and Beth could answer some of his questions.

Beth didn’t know a thing. Her kidnapper had stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth before he dragged her away from the cottage. She swore she’d never seen him before. Only the one man captured her, then tied her to the chair in the empty cottage and rode off. She had no idea to where or for what reason. In fact, she claimed after they arrived at the cottage, her kidnaper hadn’t uttered more than two whole sentences to her.

No answers!
He sent Clifford off with a message that he wanted to see the estate manager, Jonathan Miller, first thing in the morning. He dressed for dinner and joined the women for a delightful repast of roast leg of lamb. After the women left the table Simon sat enjoying a moment of solitude with a brandy and a slim cigar. He stared at the cloth covering the table. Tomorrow he had to begin his search for suitable men for Neville’s daughters. The sooner the better.

Amy’s face teased his memory. Damn! He didn’t want to think of Amy, nor of the man to whom he would see her wed.

Intense desire washed through him. He didn’t need this. He slammed his fist against the table. What was there about Amy that filled him with desire? He pushed his thoughts away. Stubbornly, he dragged his thoughts to the task before him. Bloody Hell! He didn’t know anything about finding husbands.

Of course, when he’d finished marrying off the five women, he’d return to the sea and his ships. He ought to begin making some kind of plans this very night. Yes, tonight. Now, in fact!

And, as soon as possible, he’d leave here, get away from these women, especially Amy.

He hurried to the study and scoured the desk for paper. He pulled out a pen and ink and sat twirling the wood between his fingers. Who did he know who could meet the requirements of a good husband?

He made a list of acquaintances, then studied each name. He shrugged and crossed off the first name. George Thurston wouldn’t do at all. George was a miser. His wife would have to wear rags before he’d part with a penny. No, George would make a poor choice to husband one of Neville’s daughters.

The next man on the list was Henry Blakely. Tall, good looking, but Harry had the reputation of being a womanizer. On top of that, he drank too much. Why, Simon heard he indulged in one or two drinks every night after his meal. No, Blakely wouldn’t do either.

By the time he had finished, he’d eliminated every name. Simon growled with disgust. This job seemed an impossibility.

At a sharp knock on the door, Simon threw the pen to the desk. “Come in,” he commanded.

Amy opened the door and whirled into the study.

“What can I do for you?” Simon stood. “Did Beth remember something I should know?”

She shook her head and smiled, heating Simon’s blood. Her luscious lips begged for a kiss. He fought the desire to taste her just once. He felt the male part of him stir
. Damn!
He needed to get this woman married and quickly, before he gave in to temptation.

“I need to discuss my father’s will.”

Simon straightened. “Your father’s will? Have you read the will?”

“Of course. His solicitor read it several days after Father’s burial. We all heard every word. And, I must say I agree with Papa’s desire to have you find husbands for my sisters. I’ll be most happy to help in any way I can. However, I need to talk to you about his request for me.”

“You have someone in mind?” A sharp pain shot through him. Why the thought of Amy interested in someone bothered him so much, he didn’t know. Nor did he want to question his emotions.

“No, absolutely not,” she snapped.

Simon felt like smiling. “So, what should we talk about?”

Amy cleared her throat.

Simon decided she appeared a bit uncomfortable. Perhaps she needed to be consoled, told that he would exercise great caution in finding all of them good men to marry.

“Amy, rest assured I intend to find each of you men who will respect you, and men you and your sisters can respect.”

“No,” she whispered.

“No?” he repeated to be sure he had heard her response.

“I--I--You must understand. I have no desire to wed any man.”

Simon stared at her. Every woman he knew, or knew of, wanted marriage. A husband, a family, these were instilled in a woman before she took her first steps. Amy didn’t want that?

“Why not?” he demanded.

“I--I just don’t want to marry.”

“Amy,” he said. “It’s what your father wanted for all of you, husbands, families.”

“Well, I don’t want it and my father knew I didn’t want it. That’s why he left me the estate.” She stepped toward him, “Simon, be realistic. I’m much too old to seek a husband. My wish is to stay here at Kirkley Manor, alone.”

He rounded the desk, “I can’t allow that. Your father’s will cannot be denied. I must find husbands for all five of you.”

“No,” she muttered. “I will not marry, not ever.”

He reached for her, “Amy, marriage is the only answer for a woman.”

“No,” she snarled and lifted her hand. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

“Are you afraid of marriage? Is that what this is all about?”

“I won’t marry. I won’t.” Tears gathered in her eyes, and Simon grabbed at air. A woman’s tears could make the hardest man a bowl of porridge in a matter of seconds. He urged her closer.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, to explain that a good man could offer her much that she would like, but the scent of spring flowers and her own fragrance waffled through him. Desire burgeoned. Thought receded.

He gave in to temptation and pulled her closer. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. She gasped, her mouth opening in surprise and he took advantage.

One taste,
that’s all he wanted.
Just one taste.

He brushed her parted lips and then fitted his mouth to hers. With a sweep of his tongue he traced the outline of her lips, her teeth. The need to taste more consumed him like a sail begging for wind in a becalmed sea, he delved deeply, her sweetness more of an enticement than he could have imagined. One taste could never be enough. He tightened his hold and plundered the honey of her mouth.

A distant knocking registered in his subconscious. His heart pounded against his ribs. He dragged his mouth away from its sweet feasting and opened his eyes. When her eyes popped open Simon took a calming breath, preparing for a reaction, any kind of reaction.

The knocking became more insistent. Someone was knocking at the door. He released Amy and stepped back. He tried to offer an apology, but for the first time in his life he couldn’t force the words from his mouth.

Another knock sounded. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Come,” he finally managed.

Aunt Agatha bounded into the room.

“Tsk, tsk. This will never do. Amy, dear, you can’t meet with Simon like this. It just isn’t done. Now, I’ll sit here and the two of you can continue your discussion.”

Simon felt like cursing. It was the same kind of sick sensation he felt when the ship he captained had appeared about to broach.

Bloody hell! His aunt should have arrived minutes ago. Not after he had taken a taste of heaven.

Amy, her face as pale as Aunt Agatha’s white lace cap, turned toward the door.

“My conversation with his Lordship is finished,” she snapped and fled the room.

~ * ~

Amy raced for the back stairs. Her face felt like a living flame, hot, burning, seared with an intensity she hadn’t known existed. She pressed her fingers to her tender lips. Why had she allowed him to touch her so, to taste her like a vessel of wine? How had he overcome her reticence? She had never allowed such intimacy, not even when Harold had tried to force her.

Embarrassment curled through her as she hurried to her bedchamber. To her chagrin, Caro waited at the door.

“You talked to Simon?” Caro asked.

She was the only one of her sisters who seemed to understand Amy’s desire to remain unmarried.

“Yes,” Amy mumbled. She had no intention of admitting that the conversation had dissolved into something more than a conversation.

“And?”

“We talked, but I don’t think it did any good.”

“Listen, Amy, you don’t have to accept any man’s suit if you don’t want. Simon can’t force you to marry against your will.” Caro followed Amy into her small room.

“But, he can make my life a living hell--if I don’t do what he wants.” Amy shuddered as she spoke.

“Simon’s not like that,” Caro scolded. “You saw for yourself how gentle he was when he talked to Bethany. He asked questions, then waited for her to catch her breath. Why, he even comforted her when she started to cry as she explained about the gag the villain stuffed in her mouth. No, I can’t believe Simon would force you to marry, not if he understands how set against it you really are.”

Amy shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll wait and see.”

“Did he say anything about what happened today?” Caro asked. “I have a feeling we’ll all be confined now until he finds Harold. I gathered from his remarks to Beth that he’s certain Harold was behind the kidnapping.”

“I doubt he’ll keep us confined. We have to be able to spend time with the men he selects. After all, he wants to see us all married.”

Caro laughed.

“Amy, Simon can bring the men here to the estate. Besides, how do you know he wants us all married off so soon?”

“It makes sense,” she stated. “We know he’s a man of business, that his ships and their cargos are more important than anything. After all, the sea is his life. Even Father knew Simon wouldn’t surrender the sea for a home on land. That’s why Father named Jonathan Miller as overseer. He knew Jonathan got on well with me and together we would see to the estate.”